Chris sighs and flips a page. Her patient’s file is practically a novel and she’s going to have to spend the night reading every diagnosis her patient has had over the course of his life. She chews on her pen as she attempts to decipher a particularly interesting mess of scribbles for a prescription of aspirin. Chris leans back on her chair, impatient and drained of energy, and decides a break after four hours at her desk is worth her time.

Chris finds herself in the fridge, scrounging for some orange juice when the front door to the apartment swings open, announcing the arrival of her roommates.

“Chrisy, you will not believe what happened,” Tristan shouts, trotting to the kitchen. Jones and their border collie pup, Mr. Marbles, trail behind him, hot on his heels.

Chris shuts the fridge door, the carton of orange juice in her hand, and does a double take at them. They’re dripping wet and muddy. Water is pooling under their feet as they squirm under her scrutiny. The mud clumped to the hem of their shorts is drying and flaking behind them like a dust storm.

“Take a bath,” she orders, daring Mr. Marbles to shake off his fur. She waits for a response but decides to cut Tristan off. “I mean, now.”

Jones, who has been looking quite miserable since he walked through the door, doesn't hesitate and tucks Mr. Marbles under his arm and strides down the hall to hose the puppy in the tub. Chris grabs a glass from the dish rack and pours herself some juice. Tristan coughs and finds himself a seat at the island across from her, despite her frown. Her eyebrow twitches at the squelch he makes when he sits.

“We were walking Mr. Marbles in the park,” Tristan says, starting his story. He fidgets in his seat for a comfortable position and finally settles, only to shake his blonde mop of grass sprinkled hair. A strand of something leafy plops beside Chris’s glass of juice and she pulls her glass protectively to her side of the island.

Chris begins to open her mouth to remark the inch thick footprints extending from the front door to the rest of the apartment, however she’s interrupted by the howling and clatter of Mr. Marbles’s claws pawing to get out of the bathtub. Tristan and Chris pause to listen to Jones’s irritated ramblings.

“So, anyways,” Tristan says when the only sound coming from the bathroom is the shower. “We were checking out some girls when we realized, too late, that Marbles was checking out a duck. Next thing we know, we're in the water.”

“Well, yes, you smell like a swamp,” Chris adds, crinkling her nose as she sips her juice.

“A pond, actually,” he corrects.

A yelp and a splash from the bathroom is given a moment of consideration. Tristan stands up and walks around the island, heading in the direction of his chip cabinet, setting off mines of squeaks every time his soaked sneakers hit the tiles. He opens the cabinet door and consults the array of his favorite snack.

Chris tenses when he tugs on the collar of his plastered shirt, releasing a ‘pop’ when the wet cotton is forced off his chilled skin.

“You’re going to get sick,” she states, hoping he’ll take the hint.

He shrugs and grabs a bag, shutting the cabinet door. Tristan has just split open his bag and dusted chip crumbs all over the front of his sticking shirt when Jones marches down the hall, a hand holding up a towel around his waist, his dark hair splattered to his forehead and water dripping into the hallows of his eyes.

The puppy under his arm barks, sparkling clean and wrapped under his other arm with a towel. Jones strides over to the island, dumping the bundled, squirming puppy into Chris’s arms. He mumbles something under his breath, though Chris only catches “stupid duck” and “so much alien slime”.

Jones marches his way back down the hallway only to stop, turn around, and grab the back of Tristan’s neck. Tristan drops his bag, adding chips to the growing mess on the hardwood floor. Chris gulps down the last of her juice as she watches Jones drag Tristan to the bathtub in a headlock with Tristan yelling and skidding down the hallway.

Splashing and cursing is the last thing Chris hears when she closes the door to her room.

::

Just a little something from the YGMM Universe.

This is further along in the timeline, where they have somehow procured a puppy. -shrugs shoulders with a secretive smile- (If you want to know, drop me a hint? *wink!*) There's a lot about them that has just been revealed about the trio's behavior here :P I hope you enjoyed it!

I will definitely not be able to post a lot this semester, so I leave this story to amuse you all until I have the time. I'll be occupied by school, volunteering (I got a position at the hospital!) and BCIT application prepping. I hope I survive this semester! >.<!!Wish me luck and I hope you all have a gnarly time while I'm super busy setting my life in motion :)